taphophobia || open

[gerda]

n. a fear of being buried alive

The day started out like any other. Viola's alarm rang for a full twenty minutes before she woke up, then was very nearly smashed to bits as flung it across her room. The floor was cold and immediately made her have to pee. She remembered to brush her teeth, but forgot to brush her hair. She threw on something simple: plum-colored velvet sundress, loose leather boots, gray socks, and a gray blazer-like jacket with black piping. She gave a quick look at herself in the mirror and gave an indecisive, "Hummm...??" The final touch! A leather belt to define her waist like. With a touch of make-up she was ready in under seven minutes.


Viola took the subway. There was something endearing about the subway, probably the people. She had been in the city for less that a year and was still only getting used to 'big city life'. When she called her big brother(a native of Chicago) a few week after moving, she explained all her grand adventures on the electric passenger railway. Viola spent the next hour's half being scolded. How was she to know that it was dangerous to make eye contact, converse, and try and make friends on metro? There were so many interesting people. How could she resist. It wasn't a long ride, they never were and she was at the mall in no time.

Eyes wide - she held her breath. There was something so unnerving about the mall. Too many things going on all at once. Scents from the food court and bath shops clung the to air. Music meant to attract customers blared from inside fashionable shops, not that it could be heard over the constant chattering of mall patron. And teenagers! Enough said. And though her fidelity for Nikola Tesla ran deep, Viola could only bear so much time under florescent lightening. She released the air pinned in her lungs to feel the desired affect. So panic! Her heart had slowed enough that she could handle anything! Right?

She had a specific reason for going to the mall. And not only because it was 'Mall Day' that occurred every fourth Friday of the month, but also because she needed a few things. Her only white racer-back tank top was covered in salsa and her pair of fancy black tights and been snagged. Besides, worst season of the four would creep up on Viola before she knew it. It was best she got a coat now, instead of the week before the winter sales when they jacked up the prices.

One hour turned into two and when the third was fast approaching Vi was about to put a gun to her head. "How hard is it to find a freakin' tank top in a mall!?" she whispered like a shout. She wanted to die! She was ready to give up. Should she waste her energy on something? And after skipping breakfast she was about ready to chew off the woman to her left's weave and cook it for lunch. She sighed heavily deciding to give one more store a chance. She didn't even look at it before she entered. Form the style and layout she assumed Urban Outfitters.

She wandered the isles and bobbed and weaved between sales rack and she searched, but not really search all at the same time. A fashionable young man approached Viola with a smile that split his face in two. "Is there anything I can help you find today?" he said with a voice that sparkled like slightly-effeminate jewels. She was about to politely decline when she happened to stare past him. "Ooh! Red!" she spoke as she thought, then quickly recovered with an awkward, "Er... Um, I mean, No?" He seemed unsure so she gave him what he needed, "No. I'm all right. Thanks." And with that she approached the shoes section.

All colors, shapes, and sizes! Shoes galore! What caught her eager green was was a pair on massive scarlet wedges with tiny rose detail. Somehow, the managed to not look tacky. She wanted to try them on! Fortunately, they were on the sale shelving with was a miscellaneous mix of men's and women's, in all brands. She reached out for them, but came out short. Damn! She cursed her meager height. Not matter! Viola was an excellent climber. With at least two bags on each arm(yes, she over-shopped) she grabbed the shelf at eye level. She then placed a singled booted foot on the lowest shelf and pushed herself upward. With her left arm she stretched for the uppermost shelf that contained her prize.

There was a shocking metallic snapping sounds followed by a screech and many, many thumps. Viola was buried alive; she was covered in a mountain of designer shoes. Okay. So maybe she didn't want to die...

[LYLA MCPHEE]

Lyla didn't really go shopping for herself as often as she would have liked. normally she sent her assistant with a specific list that she really didn't follow enough for Lyla's liking. So today she decided to set off on her own, seeing as she had nothing else to do.

She had not even glanced at the first and second floors while making her way up to the boutiques. Oh, how she loved surrounding herself with new clothes - and stylish ones at that! Though sometimes she missed the dresses of her day, she appreciated modern times enough to go along with the fashion of today. Her arms were filled with bags as she made her way into Urban Outfitters to find some shoes, because she personally loved their shoes only.

She made her way over to the shoe section with slight difficulty, seeing as the employee was talking to some other girl. Oh well, she really didn't need his help. The was his voice sounded, she figured his 'male opinion' would not be helpful to her. Lyla unintionally followed the girl to the shelf, setting her bags down at the end of the aisle. She made no effort to make conversation or even eye contact. No, she had never really gotten along with girls, so why should she try?

Though she had to admit, her interest peaked when the girl started climbing the shelf. Genius idea, really. Lyla put it off until she heard a creak. She jumped out of the way, barely escaping the avalanche of shoes.

Lyla. Was. Livid.

Ignoring the fact that the girl was buried, her hace turned a nice shade of pink. "What in the HELL were you thinking?!" she screeched, her hands balling into fists, arms rigid at her sides. "What, the shelf was a ladder? No, hun. I don't think so."

Then she relaized it probably wouldn't look good for the company if she was implicated in neglegent homicide. The girl could suffocate, after all. So Lyla sucked it up and pushed shoes away to reveal the culprit of this horrible mess.

[gerda]

Viola heard shouting. The very loud, unhappy sort of shouting. Not that she could really hear what was being said. It was something like, but not necessarily, “Uatta HELL ew tank-tank!” and “Uff e'elf ladder? No-u e-sink-so!” It was a muffled and it didn't matter. There were things of great concern that demanded her attention. She was fairly sure she had taken a leather boot to the face and there was a very pointy heel crammed in her ear canal. She was covered in Yellow Box and Blowfish, Adidas and Lucky Brand, True Religion and Nike. From about her hips to the top of her head was a mound of shoes. With her legs so exposed and being crushed under the weight of something so random, Viola felt like a wicked witch. Or her sister anyway.

What an awful way to go, was all she could manage to think of. It would be the most ridiculous newspaper heading of all time: Death By Shoe Slide! and the bi-line: Dead at Twenty and Not Ready To Go! Never To Know A Man's Touch or The Life Of A Fashion Icon! It was utterly... depressing. Viola could feel her depression sink in like a stone was forming in the pit of her stomach. It was settling and making a nice home there. But she was faced with a question. She was buried alive... why was she not panicking!? Oh. Then it happened. “OHGAWDHELP!” She cried through a layer to faux leather and plastic. Surely the nice young man she had blew off earlier would come back for her. Right? Right!? Tear of anxiety and uncertainty filled her eyes and she began to sob.

After moment she felt movement. He face was getting lighter! Praise! Someone was helping her. First her arm was freed and she was able to help her helper. Soon there was enough weigh off of her that Viola could sit up. Her hips were the axis point and her rise mimicked that on a on vampire flick. The shelf was asunder with shelves either completely on the ground or just barely hanging on. She knew what she had to do. She knew she had to turn around and apologize to the young man and dug her up. The stone turned to twine and knotted up. The shame! Was she going to have to pay for the mess' clean up? Would they ban her from Urban Outfitters? The very idea? The tears that hopelessly trickled down her cheeks and turned into into outright sobs. Like the Nike by her feet said: JUST DO IT.

She stood and whirled around to face her help. “I'M SO-” but she cut herself off. Before her stood not a dorky=looking boy, but rather a beautiful. She was high-class. No mistake about it. Her clothes, her hair, her shoes must have cost more than and entire month of Viola's rent. Such a stunning woman moved to help her? Her? A lowly peasant? Viola was touched and the tears continued. In actuality it was probably the adrenaline from the fall and burial that prompted the extreme reaction, but she didn't need to know that. The sentiment she had so curtly end was smoothly morphed into, “O—Thank you!” She was sure by now she must have looked a mess. Her hair wild and in her face. Her eyes red and swollen with snot dribbling from her nose.

The workers and customers of the store and started to gather, but none of them had addressed Viola directly. Her clear green eye fixated on the woman. She sniffled and wiped her nope with her sleeve. “Y-You're such a nice lady!” and tacked on a few power gawh-hawh-hawh crying-like sounds. Had it been any other situation Viola would have looked insane. But she had just had a brush with death. Anyone would have the same exact reaction, right? Yes. Completely normal. Not crazy at all!